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Title: 11:21 Summary: Mulder leaps from life to life and Scully follows him, while they discover some very interesting facets of their personalities. This story isn't quite an XFile and isn't quite a relationship story either. I just wanted to mess around with the characters a little. All comments, nice or not, are appreciated. I. Mulder thought he was going to die. His head was pounding and his throat felt like sandpaper. His body was hot and aching. The flu. He groaned and tried to get up, but he didn't try hard enough. He didn't want to miss work, not because there was something interesting going on, but because it had only been a couple of weeks since Scully had told him if he wasn't going to eat right or sleep, he needed to get a flu shot. He'd laughed and told her flu shots were for old people. The only thing he hated more than her trying to take care of him was her being right. He opened his eyes and looked at the clock. The room swam before his eyes. 11:21. That couldn't be right; he'd swear the alarm had just gone off. Mulder didn't really care. He sank back on the couch and let his eyes close. Welcome oblivion washed over him. He opened his eyes because he was being choked. No, wait, he wasn't choking, someone was kissing him and not doing too great a job. He looked around and saw he was in the magazine and book department of the grocery store. This had to be a dream. His throat didn't hurt, so he wasn't complaining. He pulled away. That was when he saw who he'd been kissing. "Scully," he said, surprize coming through in his tone. Who'd have thought she'd be so aggressive? "You're right," she told him. "Someone might see us. But you know that if it comes out positive, we'll have to tell Skinner." "What comes out positive?" he asked, trying to understand what was going on here. She reached up and patted his cheek. "You're so cute. Let's go get in line." He couldn't believe this. Scully would never do that. This had to be a dream, but if it was a dream, why did it feel so real? He followed her to the checkout line, looking around to see what they were buying. Slowly his gaze went down and fixed on a box he hadn't realized was in his hand. He looked at it as though it was stranger and more horrible than an alien torture device. It was a home pregnancy test. Scully turned an smiled a wide smile at him. This could not be happening, Mulder thought. She was his partner. He hardly ever thought of her that way. He wanted to scream and slap his face like the kid in _Home Alone_. If this was a nightmare, why wasn't he waking up? He closed his eyes, feeling weak. When he opened them, he was in his office. The clock on the wall said 11:21. He looked around. Everything looked normal. He didn't feel like he had the flu. He was fairly sure he was not dreaming, in which case he had to wonder how he'd gotten there. The first thing that came to his mind was, oddly, -Quantum Leap-. The TV show. Except on that, Mulder thought, the guy went into other people. Mulder was still himself. But if everything's normal, he thought, there's no need to worry. He'd had hallucinations or something. He could live with that. The door opened and Scully walked in. Things were not normal. Very not normal. Mulder was starting to get scared. Scully was wearing black. Well, she did that sometimes back where he belonged, too. But her hair was black. And teased. And she was wearing a lot of eyeliner. It looked terrible. "Scully?" he asked, because it was all he could get out. She walked over and sat down, straddling his lap. He gulped. She was wearing dark lipliner and no lipstick. Her nails were black as well. She looked like she belonged in a girl gang. She started kissing his neck. Using her teeth. Mulder didn't like it. This can not be a dream, he decided, because although he would confess to having some strange fantasies in his time, he had never had one like this. Had never, would never imagine Scully like this. She moved on to bite his earlobe. It was annoying and not at all erotic, so he used the time to think. There had to be an explanation. He was on another planet? Wait, maybe there was some merit to that. Could this be an alternate universe? He decided to operate on that assumption because it made sense. Sort of. "Ow," he said because in a moment she was going to be drawing blood. She looked at him. "I thought you liked it when it hurt," she said, pouting. "Uhhh-" "OK, you're right." She climbed off his lap. "Skinner would be pissed if he found out. But don't forget," she paused at the door, "Eight o'clock, my place. And bring your whip." "Oh boy," said Mulder, thinking his world seemed to be the only one where he and Scully weren't having sex. Scully paced in the small hospital room, worried. When Mulder hadn't turned up for work, she'd gone to his apartment and found him delirious with fever and dehydration. Now he was on a steady IV drip, but the fluids weren't taking effect. She looked at him. It was as though she was looking at the outer shell of the man. There was no sign of anything within. She was scared for him. For herself. She had the strong illogical feeling that Mulder's soul was out there, somewhere, not in his body. And she didn't really believe in such things. But she sat down next to his bed and took his large, waxy hand in hers. She closed her eyes. Mulder, I want to be where you are. She opened her eyes and she was in her living room. Scully was a little scared because she knew she was supposed to be sitting in the hospital. That weird metaphysical request was not supposed to have worked. She was holding a plastic strip in her hand. "It's pink," she said, realizing what it was. "That's terrific!" Mulder cried. She looked at him skeptically and knew instantly he was not the right one. It was not her Mulder. There was something different about the eyes. And then he gave her a big hug and she was convinced. "We're going to have a baby," he said. Oh no, Scully thought. She noticed the clock before she squeezed her eyes shut. It was 11:35. When she opened her eyes, she was at work. It was something of a relief, she thought, recognizing the womens' bathroom. She wondered if she was following Mulder through his dreams, but that didn't explain anything because that Mulder hadn't been the real one. Maybe it was some alternate universe thing, she thought, and decided she'd feel better if she just accepted without analyzing for once. Scully realized the water was running in the sink and shut it off. She looked up and saw herself in the mirror. She almost screamed. Her hair was black. And teased. Thick streaks of makeup coated her cheeks beneath red, puffy eyes. Obviously she - this Scully - had been crying. Hard. She had to wonder why. What could have happened to make her so unhappy that she'd done this to herself? She scrubbed the makeup off, noticing her fingernails were painted black. There were cigarette burns on the back of her left hand and they were fresh. Scully opened her lips and examined her teeth in the mirror. She smoked. She found a comb in her pocket and started working on her hair. Someone seized her wrists from behind and snapped them into cold metal handcuffs. She turned. It was Mulder, leering at her. Again, it wasn't her Mulder. This one looked leaner, harder. There was no life in his eyes as he shoved her up against the cement wall. "Hey," she said, frightened. "You know you like it rough," he said and she was pretty sure he'd been drinking. "Just a quick one, then back to work." The thing that scared her most, more than the notion she was going to be brutally raped here in a second, was that this Scully, the one with black hair and fishnet stockings, probably did like it rough. She saw his watch as he slapped her across the face. It was 11:30. Things went mercifully black. Mulder opened his eyes. He was at work, but he was out in the hallway. OK, he thought, hoping he was no longer in the S&M world. He opened the door to his office, mustering a little hope that he'd be back where he belonged. Wrong. Scully raised her head and looked up at him from the book she'd been reading. He could only stare at her, and she noticed, turning the thick romance novel over and waiting for him to speak. He only stared. Finally, she said in a soft, almost unsure tone, "Fox? Is something the matter?" He couldn't answer. He couldn't even complain that she'd called him Fox, not when she did it in that soft tone. What could he say? "No," he moved inside and sat down at his desk, trying not to stare. Scully - no, he couldn't even think of her as Scully because she was so different from the one he knew. At least that last one had possessed some of Scully's edge. But this girl sitting in front of him was unrecognizable except for her wide blue eyes. He'd seen that innocent look before. He glanced over at her again. She'd picked up the romance novel. He looked away quickly because it made him sad. This Dana Scully was fat. Very, very fat. Mulder would have guessed three or four hundred pounds. Her hair was long and blond and stringy. And she had bad skin. He had nothing against overweight people, but this upset him because it just wasn't Scully. And he had to wonder why. "Do you want to go out to eat? We can get some lunch, talk?" he suggested. She smiled shyly. "You don't have to do that, Mr. Mulder." *Mr* Mulder? he thought. "No, I want to." "OK," she agreed, biting her lip. "Can we go someplace with a salad bar, though?" Her hopeful smile broke his heart. "Sure," he said, and then he noticed the nameplate on her desk. She wasn't his partner. She was his secretary. "All settled?" he asked gently as she returned to their table from the salad bar. She nodded and then looked at him. "Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked. Mulder's heart sank a little. "Am I not usually nice to you?" "Not like this." She looked down into her salad, embarrassed. "Dana," he began, then hesitated, looking for the words. "It's probably none of my business saying this, but -" "No, it's OK, go on." Mulder hoped it wouldn't hurt her feelings, but he had a driving urge to know. "Why - why are you-" "Oh," she blushed and ducked her head. "My therapist said I should try to, you know, lose the weight. Because I'm only hiding behind the food." "What are you hiding from?" he had to ask although he had the dreadful feeling he could figure it out. "Myself. What I could be. Dr. Wilson says I'm afraid to be attractive because...of what my father did." Oh God. "What did he do?" She was staring at him, her eyes intense. "I thought everybody knew," she said guiltily, tears filling her eyes. He took her hand in his, feeling like a heel. "He abused me. That's why he got such a quick discharge, when they found out. Not just me. I thought everybody knew," she repeated. It was horrible. He had thought he wanted to know, but now he knew he didn't. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling his own pain because he knew for her this was real. And he knew how it could have been. He closed his eyes. II. She was in the office, but she didn't feel like herself. Scully looked down. She was fat. Very fat. This is what would've happened if I'd had that second helping, she thought. Mulder came into the office and for a moment, she thought it was her Mulder, that she'd found him. But then he flashed an oily grin at her. Not him. "Type this up for me," he told her, sliding a folder across at her. "No typos this time." "What makes you think-" she began. "It's your job," he reminded her and she shut up. He came around the corner of the desk, approaching her. He lightly touched her hair and she continued staring at him defiantly. "And you want to keep your job, don't you?" His hand slid down and squeezed her breast. She fought her reaction. "Now what do you say?" he asked her. "Yes sir," she said. "Good. I'll expect you at my place tonight at 10:30. And don't be late this time. Or maybe I'll find a new secretary," he noted the clock. "I've got an 11:30 with Skinner. See you tonight," he said and moved away from her. It was all Scully could do not to cry. She'd never been treated like this in her whole life. She hoped these weren't alternate universes, but she hoped more that they weren't Mulder's dreams. Why was she always messed up and he was a sleaze? She couldn't believe Mulder in any world would sexually harrass her. But she'd let him. She was her, and not this secretary, and she hadn't socked him. What did that say about her? She put her head down on the desk. Mulder wasn't in his office. It was an office, a huge on, and not FBI. He had a cigar in his hand which he looked at in disgust and stubbed out on the ashtray. He waited for Scully to walk in. She didn't. He got up and opened the curtains behind him. He recognized the smoggy city immediately. Los Angeles. He hated LA, what was he doing there? The light from the window highlighted the smoke filling the room. A chilling thought occurred to him. What if in this world he was some version of the Smoking Man? He refused to consider it. Anyway, then the office door opened and he expected Scully to walk in. It wasn't her. It was Kristen. The vampire. Before he could react, or run, she was talking. "What is this, Mulder? I told you I wanted a good part." She threw a thin folder of papers on the large desk. "Not any of this three girls in a bed stuff! I want one with a plot. I am a serious actress!" "Umm," said Mulder, looking at the papers. It was a script. En</p> d: Waldo and the Three Bunnies. He was surprised; he hadn't thought pornos used scripts. Kristen continued her tirade, though at this point he had to wonder if she was Kristen. "You're my agent, Mulder. You're supposed to care about these things." Her agent. He was her agent? That explained about the cigar and the city, but what about the FBI? The X-Files? Then he looked at his desk and saw the picture of Samantha. If she was alive, OK, he wouldn't need the X-Files. He had to laugh. Otherwise it would hurt too much. Scully was in a kitchen and a mop was in her hand. She could actually see her reflection in the floor. She looked like herself, but if she was, why was the floor so clean? She was a housewife. She couldn't believe it. It was almost too horrible to contemplate. The back door opened and a man walked in. "Hi, honey, I thought I'd stop by for lunch." She glanced at the clock. 11:23. He ate early. She believed she'd never seen this man before, though there was something familiar around his eyes. "I didn't cook anything," she said. "I know," he laughed. "You never do. I can't believe you washed the floor again. I know it's hard on you being home, but don't worry, honey, the lawyers will have it all sorted out soon," he moved to the refrigerator and started making a sandwich. "Lawyers?" she asked warily. OK, at least she wasn't having abusive sex with Mulder, but where was he? "Binckley is the best for malpractice, darling, and you know it. You didn't mean to kill that guy." She gaped at him. She wasn't a housewife. But was it better that she was a bad doctor? "What about the X-Files?" She hadn't realized she'd said it aloud until he answered her."How did you know? I'm going to have to go to New Jersey to investigate. That's why I came home. I have to pack," he set down his sandwich. "Wait," she said, "do you work with a man named Mulder?" "Mulder?" he asked. "Where'd you get that? Oh, wait, isn't that that big casting agent Michael Eisner just appointed head of ABC?" Her husband gave her a funny look. "Are you feeling OK?" "No," she answered and leaned against the counter. Neither of them were in the FBI, but her husband, a man she'd never seen before except for something familiar about the eyes, was investigating the X-Files? This just got worse and worse. Her husband returned, wearing a trench coat and carrying a suitcase. He dropped a kiss on her cheek then paused by the door."Don't forget little Alex's teacher wants to meet with you. Bye, honey." Before he turned to go, he raised a hand to smooth back the hair that was flopping in his eyes. She recognized him. She was married to Krycek. She wanted to throw up. Scully was in another kitchen, but it was dark outside. The only light came from the clock on the microwave that glowed 11:21. It wasn't her kitchen, but it felt like her kitchen. It also felt like that inevitable moment when they'd almost wrapped up an X File, the moment right before something horrible approached and attacked them. She was too scared to turn on the light. She had the feeling someone was watching her. She pulled out her gun, glad she had it, and put it on the table in front of her. She pulled out her badge and looked at it. Dana Scully Mulder, it said. So she wasn't back where she belonged. Even if it felt like it. She was married to Mulder. Mulder was outside and he had apparently been searching some bushes with his weapon drawn. He put it back in its holster and went around to the back of the house. He could see someone sitting in the kitchen. He drew his gun again and opened the door. Scully shot to miss when the kitchen door opened. The lights went on and she was glad she had. "Mulder," she said. It was really him. She got up and hugged him. "Scully," he said, recognizing her. It was the real Scully, the one he knew. "What are you doing here?" "It's a long story and I don't really understand it, but I've been following you," she said. "Pretty abnormal stuff," he commented. "Yeah. We seem to be having a lot of sex," Scully said. They both chuckled uncomfortably. "There's something wrong here," he said, looking around the kitchen. "Can you feel it?" "We're married," she said. "Here, I mean. My name's different on my badge." "At least you have one," he said and they both knew what he meant. The phone rang, shrieking shrilly through the eerie silence between them. They both jumped. Mulder grabbed it before it could ring again. "Mulder." A low voice whispered in his ear. "We have them both. If you're quiet and cooperate, you can have one back. Which one?" Mulder's heart was pounding. He didn't fully understand. "Samantha?" The voice chuckled. "It's your choice. I thought you'd choose the boy. I guess you are different from your father." There was a click and he heard the dial tone in his ear. "Oh God," he said, staring at the phone in his hand. "What is it?" "I just made a deal with the devil," he said. She was still staring at him and he couldn't face her. He couldn't believe the way it had happened. "They said...they had both of them. If I cooperate, I can get one back. Then he said choose. I didn't understand...I said Samantha...he said I was different from my father." Scully thought she understood. "They have our children. Not our children, but...our children here." "One of them must be named Samantha. The other one's a boy. I have to know for sure," he said and went into the living room. Scully followed him. There was picture over the fireplace. The two of them, a little boy, a younger girl. Mulder ripped it down and stared at it. Scully pulled the frame out of his hands, then removed the photograph. On the back she'd written, "Mulder, Dana, Fox Jr and Samantha. Christmas." Her hands shook as she carefully put it down. "I can't believe I let you name him Fox," he said and his voice was rought. "Maybe the you here liked it better," she said gently. "We have to find him." Scully nodded. "Let's look around and see what we can find out." she turned away from him and went down the hall to the bedrooms. There was nothing unusual in the master bedroom - their bedroom - and Scully pushed open the adjoining door. She'd expected it to be a bathroom, but it was a nursery decorated in yellow. She turned on the light and right under the lamp was a new baby book. She paged through it quickly, feeling dread. "Hell," she swore softly. "I'm pregnant here too." "How far?" Mulder's voice was unexpected behind her. She flipped through the pages again. "Ten weeks, I guess." She raised her eyes to look at him. "It's yours." "It was mine in that other place too," Mulder pointed out. "But it wasn't really you, or me. Us. This really feels like us." Scully tried to explain. "We're both here." Mulder nodded. He knew what she meant and he felt he had to protect her and the baby. "I'll go find our son." "I'm coming with you." "I have to keep you safe...for him." This was too weird. "Do you think she'd just sit here and watch?" Scully challenged him. "We are not your mother and father, Mulder. It's going to be different." He didn't say anything, but he hoped so. They were getting ready to leave when teh back door opened and a little girl walked in. The two of them stared at her. Neither knew exactly what to say. "Mommy? Daddy? What is it?" she asked. The child's eyes were wide and scared, but her face was solemn. "Are you all right?" Scully asked, choking back sudden tears. "Yes," Samantha replied and Scully grabbed her and hugged her tight. Mulder watched them with a strange look on his face and reached to smooth the girl's long brown hair. "Where were you?" he asked. Samantha frowned. "I don't remember. There was a bright light...I don't know." Mulder and Scully exchanged a look over her head. "what's going on?" she asked seriously. It was heartbreaking that this child was so mature. "We'll take her to my mother's," Scully said and reached for Sam's hand. "But Mommy," Samantha argued, "You always said if something bad happened, to go right to Uncle Walter's." "Uncle Walter?" Mulder echoed, wishing he could laugh. "She's probably right," Scully said. "They must have trusted Skinner." "OK then we're wasting time. Let's go," Mulder said and ushered them out to the car. Skinner had been waiting for them and met them at his door. "Go see Aunt Polly," he told Samantha. She nodded. Scully was a little surprised; she'd never imagined a Mrs. Skinner. "Samantha," Mulder said as their child turned to go. She stopped. "Remember I love you. We love you." Sam just nodded, and went inside. Scully put her hand on Mulder's arm. It was as though he'd been talking to his sister. He looked to Skinner. "What can you tell us?" Their superior shook his head. "BE glad you got her back." "I want my son!" Mulder roared. "I don't know anything," Skinner said. "But I'll keep her safe while you search." "You'd better." Skinner looked at Scully. "I'm sorry." She nodded. "Let's go, Mulder." "What do we do?" she asked once they were in the car. "I wish I knew," Mulder said. They couldn't find him. They also couldn't find the Smoking Man, so they knew who was responsible. But it didn't help them any as they sat at the kitchen table exhausted twelve hours later. "I feel like we let them down," Scully said. "We did all we could," Mulder told her, but she knew he didn't believe it. "It's strange, Mulder, it feels like they're my own." "I know. I feel the same way." "What do we do now?" "I think this is going to end soon," he said. She felt the same thing. "I feel like we should leabe them a note. Apologize or something," Scully said, feeling empty inside. "If they're us, or we're them, could they have done anything different?" Mulder asked. "I have to think they could." It seemed so pointless otherwise. Scully had to believe that the other Mulder and Scully - the ones who were married - would find their son. "They'll find him." Mulder nodded. Everything changed. It was 11:21. Scully opened her eyes and found a nurse was shaking her. "I'm here," she said and the woman stopped. "I thought for a moment you weren't going to wake up," the nurse said, "Like him." Scully looked over at Mulder. His eyes were open. "Scully -" he rasped. His throat hurt again. "OH my," said the nurse. "Go get a doctor," Scully told her. She needed to talk to Mulder alone. "That was one hell of a ride," Mulder said once the nurse was gone. "You got any logical explanations?" Scully shook her head. "IT felt so real." He nodded. "Everything was so bad." "Mulder, I think...it might be best if we don't talk about what we saw. Because those people were really us, even if they weren't." She said, thinking of how evil and sleazy he had been. "You're right," Mulder agreed, remembering his secretary Scully. How could he tell her that? Even though and yet because it hadn't happened on this world. "Makes you wonder though," she said. "What?" "If we shouldn't try it out. You know, you and me. It seemed like it was our destiny in those other places," Scully said. "You want to give me a kiss?" Mulder smirked. "No," Scully smiled back. "Maybe that's what made those other places so screwed up." Mulder suggested. "Because we were together." "I have to agree I like it here," Scully said, but leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips anyway. He looked surprized. "You want to catch my cold?" he asked. "No." "Tough," he said, reaching for her, but then the doctor came in and they both straightened up. But as Scully stood there watching the doctor examine Mulder, she thought she already felt the flu's attack coming on... End. |
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